


That Time We Went to the Opera

by Bullet_Sangwich



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/F, Genderswap, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 21:21:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bullet_Sangwich/pseuds/Bullet_Sangwich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes and her flatmate Joan Watson decide to go to an Opera.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Time We Went to the Opera

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea when I went and saw an opera today. Don't hate me ;_;

"Joan, what do you know of _La traviata_?" said Sherlock, standing in her usual place in the window, violin placed gently on her shoulder.

Joan looked up from her magazine. "It's an opera. That's about all I know. Why?"

"Lestrade gave me tickets as a sort of reward for helping her find those missing people."

"Are you thinking about going? Maybe it'll be good for you," Joan remarked, smirking at her flatmate when she shot her a look.

"Mm, boring. Operas are dull."

Joan set her magazine a little roughly on the table. "Sherlock, operas are not dull! They are wonderful, cultural experiences. Would it kill you to have some culture?"

"I am not interested in culture. I would rather be out solving another case."

"Well we don't have another case, Sherlock. Lestrade is out, and we haven't had any messages coming from either of our blogs. Take a night off. Let's go to the opera."

* * *

 

_Sorry, I'm going to be late to the opera. Something came up at the clinic and I have to go. -JW_

_I'll meet you there. -SH_

Sherlock had left about thirty minutes earlier after recieving a call from Molly about a new body that had arrived at St. Bart's. Joan put her phone back in her purse as she walked into her bedroom and grabbed an outfit to change in to. She grabbed a sweater, a pair of slacks, and her favorite pair of heels and walked out of 221B, hailed a cab and made her way to the clinic.

* * *

 

With her ticket in hand, Joan walked into the theatre and looked for her seat. When she found it, she sat down and made herself comfortable.

"Evening, Joan," Sherlock's voice said.

Joan looked at Sherlock, taking in the little black dress that her flatmate was wearing. "Sherlock, you look.. fantastic." Joan stammered, suddenly (and strangely) feeling warmth inbetween her legs.

"Thank you," she said. She sat to the left of Joan, who couldn't stop staring at her. She noticed the dress that Sherlock was wearing, and how it was insanely different than her normal outfit of black slacks, blouse, waistcoat, and heels. This time, Sherlock was wearing a black dress that was a bit tight on her, stockings with an interesting pattern on them, and black heels that were taller than her usual ones. Joan had to stop herself from looking. She knew it was having an effect on her. Before tonight, she had only had slight feelings for the detective, but now she was a little hot under the collar thanks to her thoughts.

* * *

 

The opera had begun and Joan couldn't focus. She was struggling with her new thoughts about the sexy brunette next to her. Every time Sherlock fidgeted in her seat, Joan's eyes would wander to her legs. Oh God, her legs, she wanted to caress them, trail her tongue up, up, up until she hit the right spot and made that detective wail.

When she caught the rise and fall of Sherlock's chest, her mind would trail back to her dirty, perverted thoughts, she would think about Sherlock's breasts, how they would feel in her hands, how it would feel to suck and rub her nipples.. Oh God..

When Joan looked at her face or neck, she could only see herself kissing the detective, slipping her tongue in her mouth and making her wet down below, leaving love bites on her neck and making her beg for Joan to slip her fingers down to where she needed it the most, oh my GOD, yes.

She couldn't stand it any longer. She had to leave.

Joan got up and shimmied her way through the aisle and headed for the restroom as quickly as she could. After a minute of splashing cold water on her face, she found that another person had joined her in the restroom. Looking up into the mirror, she saw her tall, sexy detective walk in. Joan turned toward her and walked over to her until Sherlock was backed up against the door. Finding the lock and turning it, Joan went in for the kill.

She smashed her lips onto Sherlock's and kissed her ferociously. When Sherlock abruptly pulled away, Joan thought it was the end. Sherlock looked at her and only uttered one word.

"Finally."

She grabbed the collar of Joan's sweater and pulled her back in, parting her lips and letting Joan invade them with her tongue. Joan turned her around and backed her up into the sink.

"Dress. Off. Now." Joan said, panting. Sherlock obliged and unzipped and took off her dress, leaving her in her underwear, stockings, and those sexy heels. Still kissing Sherlock, Joan took her heels and stockings off and dropped them onto the floor. Sherlock hopped up onto the sink and helped Joan out of her sweater. After that was off, she gave Sherlock a chaste kiss, then got down on her knees and took Sherlock's leg in her hand. She kissed from the ankle up, causing Sherlock's breath to hitch. She smiled and continued kissing, stopping when she got to the innermost part of her thigh, with the detective trembling under her touch.

Joan went back up and kissed Sherlock, her fingers teasing the spot she just kissed, barely hovering over the lining of her panties. Sherlock gave a frustrated little moan, and Joan finally moved her fingers over and stroked Sherlock through her underwear. Sherlock moaned rather loudly at that, and that just made Joan want to fuck her senseless. She slipped her fingers past the lining and found exactly where she needed to be. She rubbed the lower half of Sherlock's entrance, earning a low keen from her. Feeling she could be rewarded at that, Joan began to rub the entirety of her pussy, still avoiding her clit. 

Sherlock's fingers were tangled in Joan's short, blonde hair. Her grip tightened in exactly the right spot, and for one fleeting moment, she had control.

"I swear to God, Joan, if you don't rub my clit I will--" Sherlock was cut off by her own moan as Joan finally began to touch the raised nub. She began to rub, up and down, up and down, until she slipped her middle finger inside of the detective. Sherlock only got half a scream out before Joan captured her lips with her own. She took her finger out of her and ripped her panties off. Putting her middle finger in her mouth, the taste of Sherlock invaded her senses and drove her mad.

As soon as the panties were all the way off, the bra went next, revealing Sherlock's full breasts. Joan took her hand and put two fingers inside of Sherlock, whilst sucking on her breast. After finger-fucking the detective for a bit, Joan got back down onto her knees and pulled Sherlock's legs forward. Kissing her way down her stomach, she finally got to Sherlock's entrance. Her pussy was really wet and Joan would not deny either of them pleasure any longer. She began licking the hole, caressing it with her tongue, circling it around her clit until she finally licked and sucked on it, the detective above her screaming and trembling. Joan got the rest of her clothes off and began to finger herself whilst pleasuring Sherlock. She was just as wet as Sherlock was. 

With her left hand free, Joan got the daring idea to finger Sherlock as she was sucking on her clit. When she began, Sherlock was panting, begging for more, begging for it faster, harder. Joan was fingering herself at the pace she was fingering Sherlock. She was close, they both were. Sherlock was screaming Joan's name, breathing heavily. She climaxed, clenching around Joan's finger, and not a moment later, Joan was coming as well. Her fingers dripping wet, she put the taste of Sherlock in her mouth, and her taste in Sherlock's mouth.

When they returned to the theatre, the elderly couple next to them gave them an odd look. "Where did you two go?" the woman asked, noticing Joan's hair and Sherlock's smeared lipstick.

They looked at each other.

"We went to powder our noses."

 

 


End file.
